


The New Avengers

by pareidoliajules



Category: Glee, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Clintasha - Freeform, F/F, F/M, Finchel - Freeform, Gen, Klaine, M/M, Other, Sorry About It, Tike - Freeform, brittana, gleevengers, okay so there are probably gonna be a million other ships or implied ships or whatever, platonic!blam, platonic!hummelberry, samcedes - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-02
Updated: 2015-03-02
Packaged: 2018-03-10 04:09:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3276173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pareidoliajules/pseuds/pareidoliajules
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>S.H.I.E.L.D has a protocol and a plan for everything--including a plan for if the worst should happen. They've been looking for individuals to be trained by the Avengers, so that in the event of their death, there is a new team ready to take up their mantle. They just didn't expect to find them all in one place, and even then, certainly not in the Glee Club of McKinley High School in Lima, Ohio...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

Sue had been stuck in Ohio for what felt like a lifetime. Her job was important, yes, but after the first ten years it got boring. And she’d been stationed at McKinley for almost three decades--that’s why she tortured the Glee Club. She had to get her jollies somewhere, didn’t she?

Still, she missed New York and the higher-level officers of S.H.I.E.L.D she had called friends once upon a time. (She had had friends, once upon a lifetime ago.) That’s why she she latched on so tight to the new ‘substitute teacher’ at McKinley High: Pepper Potts.

Well, okay. Pepper Potts was the name Sue knew her by, but to everyone else, she was Holly Holiday. A little obvious, if you asked Sue. It didn't even sound like a real name. To McKinley High, Holly was nothing but a travelling sub who filled in wherever was necessary and never stuck around too long. To Sue, Holly Holiday was an old friend and a welcome respite from the doldrums of her life.

The substitute teacher cover was convenient lie for Stark Industries (and for S.H.I.E.L.D, on more than one occasion) when things got hot and she needed to get out quick. Sue didn’t know what exactly Pepper did for Tony that required her to move and hide all around the country, but Sue didn’t need to know. That was how S.H.I.E.L.D worked, after all. Nobody knew everything.

“Hoarders is good,” Pepper said, silver aluminum dye plates in her hair reflecting the stale yellow light of Sue’s office. “But--”

“Animal Hoarders is better!” Sue finished, and then they both dissolved in laughter over their glasses of wine. “I missed you, Pepper.”

“I missed you too, Sylvester,” Pepper said, taking a sip. “How’s the assignment going?”

“High school is as boring as it has been since the dawn of time, and the kids are somehow more awful than they were when we were kids.” Sue sighed and shook her head, thinking of Porcelain and Karofsky. “The assignment isn’t going anywhere. I don’t even know why I’m here anymore.”

“You’re here to look for someone special,” Pepper responded in that all-knowing way she had. “For S.H.I.E.L.D. You’re one of the longest lasting agents on this case, and I know your dedication will pay off. Eventually.”

“If only in vacation hours,” Sue added. “Honestly, they most special kids here are the Glee Club kids, and they’re as obnoxious as that ingrown toenail I had in ‘89. Maybe moreso.” Sue took another sip of her wine, then smirked. “You should meet them, Pepper. Their over-greased director is--”

“Will Scheuster. I know. He already hit on me.”

Sue shuddered, and they laughed again. “Really, though. You should see his kids. They’re the most random, ragtag group of prepubescent rats you’ve ever seen.”

“I thought you’d never ask,” Pepper said. The impish smile was all Pepper, although the line was Holly’s. That afternoon, Pepper stood at the window of the choir room and watched as they sang and danced around: they were impressive. She was just about to move on when the watch Tony had given her went off, three quiet beeps. The only other time Pepper had heard the sound was back at Avengers Tower when she sat next to Thor at dinner. She didn't understand quite what it responded to, but she knew enough to know that its reaction meant something. Something important.

These kids _were_ special. Sue had finally done it, and she didn’t even know.

 

After several months of remote observation, one sex-positive Fleetwood Mac intervention and a disastrous Nationals bid, Pepper made her official recommendation to Tony, who didn’t understand but trusted her nonetheless. He passed it on to Fury. Fury, in turn, reviewed the file Tony gave him and carefully studied the information.

He made his decision.

 

“Hey, I got your text,” Kurt said as he accepted Rachel’s bone-crushing hug with one arm. His eyes met Finn's, who gave him a smile and a shrug in return: they were well-versed in Rachel Berry's particular form of affection. Just as Kurt thought she might actually want to break a rib, she released him and moved onto Blaine, who sent him the ‘help me’ eyes over Rachel's shoulder. Kurt could only answer with a sympathetic smile before he turned his attention back to their friends. “I miss everyone, I’m so glad you--”

“Hey, losers,” Puck interrupted, glancing doubtfully around the Lima Bean as he pulled up a seat. “What do you need?”

“Need?” Kurt repeated. “We don’t need anything, Rachel just texted--”

“I didn’t text you, Mercedes--”

“What about Mercedes?” Sam said, walking up with the woman in question. “Y’all aren’t bad-mouthin’ her, are you?” She nudged him in the ribs, and he shrugged. “What?”

“No, I was just saying that Mercedes invited us to coffee--”

“I thought Brittany wanted to interview us for Fondue for Two,” Mercedes said. An edge was in her voice and they were beginning to glare at each other, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"I thought we were organizing a flash mob," Artie put in. He was met with several quizzical stares, at which point he remembered that those usually only happened in his head, where he was an amazing dancer.

Brittany and Santana appeared, Santana raising an eyebrow before she broke the silence. “Why do you all look constipated?”

“You’re constipated?” Tina asked as she and Mike joined the group, an identical wrinkle crossing over their faces as they joined the crowded table.

“Did you call us all together?” Rachel asked, voice a half-octave higher, like it got when she was mad.

“No--?”

“I did,” Fury said, staring at the motley crew, mouth pressed into a firm line. “I’d like to talk to you about the Avengers Initiative.”


	2. Chapter 2

That summer, Rachel and Kurt got their dream of moving to New York, but they hardly lived in a quaint apartment in the Lower East Village. No, they, along with the rest of the Glee Club, were marched into Avengers Tower, led by their favorite substitute teacher and flanked by eight scary men in black suits.

Kurt had been the first to object: his father was a Congressman for crying out loud--he couldn’t just up and move to another state to train with super-heroes for an unknown amount of time. Even if he believed them about being ‘special’ in the way that S.H.I.E.L.D thought they were, which he wasn’t sure he did.

And, Mike added quickly, they were high schoolers. Half of them were seniors who needed to get ready for college.

“This sort of thing looks bomb on college apps,” Holly-Holiday-Pepper-Potts put in with a wink, the kind that used to endear the kids to her. Nobody laughed or even cracked a smile: she supposed they were right to feel a little betrayed.

“Your parents have all already agreed,” Fury said, silencing the growing rumblings of anxiety. “Most of them weren’t even surprised. They know you’ll be well-taken care of, and by extension, they will be safer than ever.”

That wasn’t even something Kurt had thought about; his dad needed to be safe. If he was off with the Avengers, who would make sure he ate egg-white omelets instead of french fries for breakfast?

Finn had similar concerns about his mother, but when he and Kurt glanced at each other across the table, they both knew the answer: Burt would take care of Carole, and Carole would take care of Burt, just like they had promised each other they would.

And so, they moved to New York. Just for the summer, for starters, Holly-Pepper promised them. And then you can come back to Ohio, if that’s what you want--you’ll just have to be ready to answer the call if we need you.

 

One of the Agents on their private flight asked for Puck’s autograph; he wanted to be the first to get the New Avenger’s signatures, because they might be worth something someday.

“Get it? Because your Glee Club’s name is the New Directions, and the Avengers, so the New Av--”

“You’re hilarious,” Puck deadpanned. “And by the way, we’re worth something now,” Puck added as he signed the airplane napkin with his name and a mohawk’d smiley face. He stayed quiet the whole rest of the flight, Quinn snoring gently in the seat next to him. He didn’t know how she could actually fall asleep. His whole body was wired, like it was before a fight, and he felt like if he blinked he’d miss something new and inexplicable.

But nothing terribly out of the ordinary happened on the flight, and as they entered New York airspace, he began to relax. He was with his friends, and he was going to meet real life heroes: what could go wrong?

(This is Glee Club, a little voice in his head answered. _Everything_ can go wrong, and it probably will.)

 

Avengers Tower was beautiful, gigantic, and intimidating. Finn felt like it was a symbol for everything he was afraid of in New York: the metallic furniture, the receptionists and even the paintings all seemed too smart for him, and he wondered if they knew it.

It took two elevators to cart everyone up to the 22nd Floor. Finn wondered how many floors it was; he’d tried to get a glimpse of the top on the way in, but it looked like it went on forever. Maybe it did--he figured anything was possible when superheroes were involved.

The elevator dinged and the doors opened, revealing a long hallway with glass walls and big meeting rooms on either side. Holly Holiday led them down and into the third door on the left; she gestured for them to sit in the chairs, arranged in a loose semicircle, so that they could see the large projector screen against the wall. It was like high school, but way weirder.

“We’ll be right back,” Holly said. “Don’t break anything, okay?”

A few minutes later, the other half of the club walked in and took their seats; Rachel sat next to him and instantly wound her fingers through his and squeezed. She was nervous, and trying not to seem it. He squeezed back and gave her what he hoped was a comforting smile--he wasn’t sure it worked, but at least she smiled back.

Just when they were beginning to talk amongst themselves, the door opened again and--oh, man.  _Oh, man_. In walked Holly Holiday, next to Tony Stark, followed by Bruce Banner, Captain America, the Black Widow and Hawkeye. Finn swallowed thickly.

These guys were real heroes.

They were looking at the Glee Club the way Finn looked at the freshmen who tried to bully Kurt.

Were they in trouble?

“Hello, Glee Club,” Holly Holiday began, stepping forward. “Today’s lesson is straightfoward: heroes!” She smiled brightly, but Finn didn’t trust her, not anymore. She had gotten them all to like her, to believe in her, and then she turned around and wasn’t anything but a liar.

Everyone else must have felt the same, because nobody smiled.

“Alright, well. You’re all probably wondering what you’re doing here. Who’s heard of S.H.I.E.L.D?”

“They were after Lord Tubbington once,” Brittany said, just as Santana spoke up.

“We know how the Avengers are, Blondie von Cougar. What are we  _doing_  here?”

Finn thought he saw Tony Stark quirk his eyebrow at the ‘cougar’ bit, but he must have imagined it.

“You’re here, Santana, because S.H.I.E.L.D believed me when I told them you all were something special.” She met each of their eyes for just a moment, then pulled a clicker from her waist. The screen behind her flicked to life, the S.H.I.E.L.D logo spinning slowly behind the Avengers’ heads.

“S.H.I.E.L.D is designed to keep everyone safe from threats that go beyond human comprehension. As such, we need beyond human defenses, like--”

“Excuse me, Miss Holiday, if I may?” Kurt said, raising two fingers in the air. “Are you telling us that  _we_  aren’t human?”

“You can call me Miss Potts now, Kurt, if you want. Or Pepper. I’m not your teacher anymore.” Pepper smiled, and Kurt returned it, but she knew these kids well enough to know that it wasn’t real. “And no, that’s not what I’m saying. I’m saying that you are human, and more than that. It’s not yet clear to us exactly what talents or powers you all possess, if any--”

“If any?” Quinn repeated, her perfectly plucked eyebrows raising. “You dragged us all the way back to New York and you don’t even know anything for sure?”

“No,” Pepper answered, wondering if it was obvious how thin her patience for interruption was wearing. “That’s where these people come in.” She stepped aside and gestured to the Avengers, who so far had done nothing more than stand there and look intimidating. “We have separated you into groups based off our observations. These groups will, hopefully, be key in unlocking the abilities we’ve detected, but are also subject to change as we learn more. You all will live here. The 44th floor belongs to the Glee Club now.

“You will spend most of your day in your groups, but there will be time allotted for relaxing or free practice, which you may spend with your Team Leader, or another Avenger, provided they are available to you. You may leave the Tower, but you will, of course, be under supervision. I can see you wondering if you’ll be allowed to talk to the other teams, and you of course will be--but there may be some friendly competition to help you hone your skills beyond your team. I know you are all used to that, what with Mr. Schuester being so...repetitive in his lessons.”

A soft chuckle ran through the group, and the unease was starting to turn into excitement--good. They would have to want it.

“Your groups are as follows. Tony Stark, aka Iron Man, will be taking Noah Puckerman.”

“Score!” Puck grinned broadly and stood up, adjusting his leather jacket over his shoulders. “Iron Man’s the only one who can handle the Puckmonster,”

“Is he the only one who goes with Iron Man?” Sam asked, trying and failing to keep the note of disappointment from his voice. Iron Man was, like, the  _coolest_. He could do the  _best_  Jarvis impression...

“For now,” Holly said. “Tony, why don’t you take Puck upstairs to get situated,” she said, not even having to look at Tony for him to obey.

“Come on, kid. Follow me, I’ll give you the grand tour,”

“Sweet. Later, suckers,” Puck met Tony at the door, then turned and gave a fake salute to the remaining Glee Club kids, then grinned and allowed the door to fall shut behind him as he stepped into the hallway.

Jackass.

“Natasha Romanoff, aka Black Widow, will be taking Kurt and Quinn.” Black Widow stepped forward and studied her pupils closely for a minute; Kurt felt distinctly on display, so he tried to meet her gaze with a smile. He wasn’t sure if it made any difference--he glanced at Quinn, who remained impassive, and wondered if he hadn’t been put in the wrong group.

“Clint Barton, aka Hawkeye, will lead Sam and Blaine,” Pepper continued, turning slightly so Clint could read her lips. Blaine and Sam high fived each other over Brittany’s head and stood quickly.

“Do either of you know sign language?” Clint asked as he moved to the door, holding it open for the boys.

“I know a little,” Blaine said, touching his fingers to his forehead and flicking his fingers apart. “I had a deaf nanny when I was younger,”

“No,” Sam said, suddenly looking nervous. Blaine offered him a reassuring smile;  _blam_  could do anything.

“We’ll work on it,” Clint said, then followed them out of the office and out into the hallway.

“Now, Thor’s at Asgard, so Hapi will escort you to your quarters for now, Rachel, Mercedes.”

“Sure, the biggest divas get the biggest hunk,” Santana snarked.

“That’s right, Santana,” Rachel said, standing and flipping her hair down her back. “When you have a divine talent, you need a godly mentor. Come on, Mercedes,” Rachel added, pointedly ignoring Santana’s gagging noises as she linked arms with Mercedes and met Hapi, who was one of the suited men that had led them into the building.

“Bruce Banner will have Brittany and Mike,” Holly said, smiling when Brittany’s face broke into a wide smile.

“Yes!” Brittany hopped out of her chair and over to Bruce, giving him a tight hug. Pepper had to hide her smile at the look of utter bewilderment on Bruce’s face, not to mention the surprise of the remaining Glee kids.

“Come on, Mike! We have so much to do! Mr. Hulk is gonna teach us  _everything_. Because he’s really smart and really scary, just like how me and Santana are.” She beamed over at Santana, who offered a dazed sort of response, before looking back up at Bruce, whose hesitant smile had faded somewhat. “Do you know how to dance, Mr. Hulk? I don’t know everything you know, but I bet you would make a  _great_  dancer.  Me and Mike could teach you! And, like me, and Mike, you're totally the secret star of the Avengers.”

By this time, Mike had joined her, and she took his hand and Bruce’s, then led them both to the door.

Pepper had never seen Dr. Banner more perplexed, and she was glad for it. In some cases, she knew, the kids would do just as much good for their mentors as the Avengers would do for the kids. Her thoughts briefly drifted to Tony, but she forced herself to stay focused.

“Steve Rogers, of course known as Captain America, will be leading Finn and Santana.”

“Are you kidding? I have to be with Grandpa McBabyface and Junior Potatohead?”

“Shut  _up_ , Santana.” Finn retorted. He stood, then grinned hesitantly at Steve, who seemed nonplussed by Santana’s reaction--he had been well-briefed. “The guy’s a hero.”

“What _ever_. I’m starving, does this place have a kitchen?”

“Best food in New York. Or at least, outside of Brooklyn,” Steve answered, offering a smile to his pair, which was returned tenfold by Finn and not at all by Santana, who just repeated that she was starving.

“This way,” Steve said, leading them out of the room, faint note of amusement in his voice. Pepper was torn between feeling sorry for him and feeling sorry for Santana.

“You two,” Pepper said, returning her attention to the remaining Glee Club members. “Artie and Tina. You’re going to be paired, for now, with--”

“Sorry I’m late,” Coulson said, pushing into the room just slightly out of breath. “There was an 084 that had to be handled. Are these two--”

“Artie Abrams, Tina Cohen-Chang, this is Agent Phil Coulson, one of S.H.I.E.L.D’s highest ranking officers, and the man who brought the Avengers together. He will be your mentor.”

“Cool,” Artie breathed. Tina remained silent, but Pepper caught her rolling her eyes. She supposed she could understand; Tina didn't know who Coulson was. If she didn't know all the things he had done, Pepper thought to herself, she would be kind of bummed about not getting a ‘real’ Avenger, too. That was obvious the thought in Tina's mind.

She would learn, Pepper knew. She watched them follow behind Coulson and smiled to herself; they would all learn so much. These pairings might not be perfect, but they were good enough to start, and it was going to be the start of something amazing.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You have no idea how difficult it is to describe rooms and colors through Kurt Hummel's eyes.

The first thing Kurt learned about Black Widow was that she was not much of a talker. She led him and Quinn back down the hallway and into the elevator in silence. Quinn met his eyes with a question, but he could only shrug. Were they allowed to talk?

The elevator wasn’t even playing music.

Kurt was just about to break. He was about to break the silence when the elevator dinged and Black Widow began to walk again. She wasn’t dressed in the outfit he had seen her in before, all over TV--the all-black leather jumpsuit--but rather casual clothes. Jeans, a loose-fitting band t-shirt that he almost recognized from one of the posters in Finn’s room.

He hadn’t ever thought about what heroes did when they weren’t fighting villains. He filed that question away for later; after all, if he was really to become a hero, he would need to know the full extent of the lifestyle.

Black Widow led them partway down another hallway, which was relatively unadorned, save for a couple pieces of expensive-looking art hung between the doors. There were three on either side, with a large double-door at the end of the hall. Kurt wondered if that’s where they were going, maybe to meet up with the rest  of the group, but Black Widow stopped at the first door on the left and unlocked it with a small key from her pocket. The door itself was dark brown, with a deeper brown frame, but the room inside was pleasantly bright. The walls were a periwinkle blue, similar to Elie Saab’s couture dresses from the past season, but Kurt was sure that that particular observation would not be appreciated by the other two--at least not yet.

The room itself appeared to be a small sitting room, with a white loveseat against the wall to the right. There were two deep blue wingback chairs facing each other on either wall. On the far wall were two white armchairs and a tall lamp, sitting on top of a two-level bookshelf, casting a cozy light across the floor.

“So,” Black widow said, pulling one of the tall wingback chairs in front of the loveseat. She gestured for the two of them to sit, and they hurried to obey. “You two are my...team.”

“And you’re our...team leader? Mentor? What do we call you?” Quinn asked, voice not betraying the anxiety Kurt could hear loud and clear. He was sure that Black Widow could sense it as well, if she was half the super-spy the news reports claimed her to be.  He thought it was a valiant effort on Quinn’s part anyhow.

“You can call me Natasha, when we’re not training. When we are, you should call me Black Widow,” Natasha answered, staring thoughtfully at Quinn for a moment before she continued. “Do either of you know why you, specifically, were placed with me?”

Kurt shook his head, although he had an idea. Quinn shrugged.

“We were both cheerleaders, so we know how to move. We’re both the top bitch at school.” She glanced at Kurt and offered a faint smile, the kind that made Kurt’s stomach warm. He was gay-diddy-gay-gay, but Quinn was so  _pretty_  when she wasn’t terrifying. He smiled back.

(To hear Rachel tell it, she was  _more_  beautiful when she was scary.)

“We’re both powerful,” Quinn finished, looking back at Natasha evenly. “You can teach us how to use our power,”

“For more important things than Prom Queen,” Kurt put in. He didn't want Black Widow to think that Quinn was the only one who knew things. He ignored Quinn’s narrowed eyes; he knew how important Prom Queen was to her, but she also knew that Prom Queen had been a terrifying experience for him. Maybe that was what kept her from snapping back at him.

Natasha nodded. “You’re both right. This room belongs to the two of you, as do those rooms.” Natasha bobbed her head to the two dark doors to their right. “Your bedrooms. The rest of your friends are in the other rooms, talking to their mentors.” Natasha fell silent for a minute, then continued. “Pepper Potts, Tony Stark and Nick Fury think the two of you will, someday, be ready to take over my place in the Avengers. It is my job to help you reach that level, or determine that you will never be able to reach that level. If you don’t pass training, do not think it’s because you didn’t try hard enough or weren’t good enough.” Her eyes held Kurt’s for a moment, then Quinn’s. “If being a super-hero were easy, everyone would do it. What do you think your job here is?”

“To learn,” Kurt answered, pressure squeezing its way down his lungs and into his stomach; it was a lot to take in, although he appreciated Natasha’s unceremonious delivery.

“To do what you tell us,” Quinn said. Something unreadable passed over Natasha’s face, gone before Kurt could even begin to name it.

“Why do you want to be here?” Natasha asked. Kurt thought it was an odd question, considering that nobody had exactly  _asked_ them to come. It wasn't like they had applied. This conversation was walking the line between interview and interrogation. It felt like a test he hadn’t studied for, and it made him uncomfortable.

“To see if we really are special,” Quinn answered, her voice softer than it had been a moment before.

“To help our friends,” Kurt added after an additional moment of thought. Even if he wasn’t ‘special’ in the way they thought he was, he would want to help Quinn and Rachel and Finn succeed in any way he could.

Natasha nodded slowly. “Good enough for tonight. Wake-up’s at 7 AM, be ready in this room by 7:30.” She stood up and let herself look at them for another minute; Kurt felt like she was seeing the tiniest parts of him, but he did not shrink from her gaze. “Sleep well.”

Silent as a shadow, she slipped out of the room and shut the door with a click behind her. Kurt let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding, then looked at Quinn.

“She seems...nice.”

Quinn looked at him like he’d never said anything more stupid. In her defense, he probably hadn’t. “Kurt, she’s terrifying. She could have killed us in an instant,”

Kurt stood in one fluid motion, clasping his hands together. “But she didn’t. And how many people can say they survived a one-on-one with  _Black Widow_? Not many. I mean, I know it’s not like we were fighting her or anything but--oh, Quinn, come look at this room!”

The door thunked quietly behind him. It was perfect, and totally  _him_. This had to be his room. The walls were grey and black striped wallpaper, and the double bed was a dark wood with silver-purple sheets with matching pillows. It was bigger than his bed at home, and Kurt liked a lot of pillows.

Quinn wasn’t by his side; he’d gotten distracted by the art on the walls (just pretentious enough for him to appreciate) and she must have gone to her room. He put down the clunky metal paperweight back on his nightstand and left his room to find hers.

It was beautiful, and Kurt could tell from her raised eyebrows and slightly ajar mouth that she thought so too. The walls were light yellow with pink flowers along the trim. Her bed was the same size as his, but in a light wood and maroon sheets. There was a picture of Beth on her nightstand, which Kurt hadn’t noticed until Quinn made a bee-line for it.

“This is insane,” Quinn breathed, brushing her fingers over the image of her daughter like it was something sacred. To her, it probably was.

“It is,” Kurt agreed, setting himself down ungracefully at her desk chair. “We should enjoy it while we can.” Quinn didn’t seem to be hearing him. She was looking from Beth to the room itself--the rollaway desk, the tall bookshelves, with big bright window with the curtains pulled daintily to the side. Quinn wasn’t the sort of girl to let people see her sweat, so Kurt quietly made his exit and closed the door behind him.

He wanted to leave their room, explore, see what Blaine’s room and common area looked like. He wanted to check in with Rachel, make sure she hadn’t gone full-diva. But he didn’t know if they were done with their mentors yet, and he figured there would be some signal or bell or something when it was time to gather for another group meeting. He could wait that long.

Kurt was halfway to his room when he noticed the sidetable near the loveseat had two piles of books on it. Each had a post-it on top, with his and Quinn’s name written neatly, in all caps. Beneath their names was the word ‘homework’, signed with the letter N.

“Hey, Quinn,” Kurt called, picking up his stack.  _The Art of War_ ,  _Ender’s Game_ , National Geographic’s  _Big Hunters_  issue, and  _Self-Defense for Dummies_. “Looks like we have our first assignment,” he said when Quinn joined him. She picked up her stack; he couldn’t make out the titles, but they were definitely different than his.

He hadn’t even seen Black Widow, hadn’t heard the door click shut or swing open. She  _was_  good: Kurt suspected that that, too, was part of what they were supposed to learn. He gave Quinn a comforting pat on the shoulder before he moved into his room, flopped on the bed and opened the National Geographic.

An hour and a half later, Kurt was more puzzled than excited: how was he supposed to do his ‘homework’ when he had no idea what the assignment was? Simple reading seemed unlikely--besides, he couldn’t possibly read a novel and absorb Sun Tzu’s immense wisdom over night,  _and_  master self-defense. At least, not without a training dummy and some real-life guidance; wasn’t that Black Widow’s job?

He finished the  _Big Hunters_  issue, which focused largely on lions, leopards and other cats. He'd taken notes as best he could in a black notebook he found in his desk. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to gain from it, but he felt better to be able to check something off his mental list.

He also made it through the first chapter of the  _Dummies_  book, which meant he learned how to hold his body, and the right way to throw a punch. It seemed basic, completely rudimentary, but he grudgingly admitted to himself that if he was going to be a gay man in New York, nevermind a super-hero, learning the basics was mandatory.

 _Ender’s Game_  seemed interesting, and he definitely related to Ender, but he didn’t understand the point of that assignment nearly as well as he did the other books.  _Art of War_  felt like the most important, but it was written so densely that Kurt was paying more attention to the rumbling of his stomach and his cellphone games than he was to Sun Tzu.  He felt guilty about that, but not guilty enough to give it his full attention.

His desk began to beep, startling him out of his day-dreamy distraction. He was briefly, illogically, worried that it was a bomb, but it seemed too steady for something like that--and anyway, this was  _Avengers Tower_. If there was a bomb here of all places, it was already too late.

So he got up and moved to his desk, opening the drawers until he found a cellphone and an earpiece. The phone was beeping, but Kurt felt the two might be related, so he lifted them both out of the drawer and affixed the small piece of plastic to his right ear. Then he focused on the phone, which was thin and smart.

It was blank except for words written in white capital letters: PRESS THUMB HERE. Kurt hesitated, but pressed his right thumb onto the screen, which briefly glowed blue as it scanned the print.

WELCOME TO S.H.I.E.L.D., KURT E. HUMMEL, the phone read. Kurt blinked in surprise but pressed the screen again, encouraging it to move to the next message. It told him that he would be receiving a lanyard and an ID, and that this phone would be for classified communication only.

The screen went blank tehn, but it was only a moment before three white dots appeared on the screen. Then REPORT TO KITCHEN flashed repeatedly. He stared at it for a moment, uncomprehending, before he snapped out of it and shoved the phone in his pocket, along with his personal cellphone. He opened the door and found Quinn standing in front of it, her hand ready to knock.

“Did you--”

“Yeah. I think it’s time for dinner,” Quinn said, and Kurt couldn’t tell if she was joking or not. Either way, he followed her out of their anteroom and into the hall, where the door clicked shut behind them. Kurt looked at it doubtfully.

“Do you have a key?”

“No.” Quinn shook her head and began walking down the hallway, ignoring the five other identical doors as they went. Kurt wondered if their fellow Glee Clubbers were in there, studying or talking or napping. Maybe they were already in the kitchen, or still with their mentors. Specifically, he wondered where Blaine was, and if Blaine was handling all this alright; Kurt was the one who didn’t like change, he knew, but Blaine didn’t like things being different, and this was  _very_  different.

Kurt slid open the double-pocket doors to reveal Black Widow, who was waiting for them in the large common room at the end of the hall. It had tall ceilings and a slate-gray carpet, made cozy by the pops of tan and red Kurt noticed in the couches and and pillows. Against the far wall was a large entertainment center, with a TV so big that even Puck wouldn’t be able to find fault with it. Through an open archway to his left, Kurt glanced a refrigerator. The kitchen, then, where they had been ordered to go. There was a door near the entertainment center, but Kurt didn’t have any idea what might be behind it--not yet, anyway. He wondered how he might get in contact with the Avengers’ interior decorator.

“How is your homework going?” Natasha asked, leading them into the kitchen. It was spacious and entirely metallic; too serious for Kurt’s taste, and too big. To different from home, where he’d been working with a stove that was older than he was.

“I don’t know if I understand it,” Kurt began. “What are we supposed to be reading for?”

“Everything,” Natasha answered, which made Kurt’s stomach sink. He bit back a sarcastic response and looked at Quinn for help, who just shrugged.

“What are we doing?” Quinn asked instead, looking around the kitchen.

“You,” Natasha began, then corrected herself, “And I, are going to make dinner for our team. We have a rotating cycle for the Avengers, and tonight just so happens to be my night. Which means, tonight is also your night, until we’re sure none of you will burn the place down and can be trusted alone.”

Kurt felt himself grinning. Some things  _were_  like home. Him and Carole would switch off, and every so often Burt and Finn would team up and try to cook a meal. These nights rapidly became known as Pizza Night.

More than that, it reminded Kurt of family dinners, which gave him a pleasant feeling in his chest.

“I know how to cook,” Kurt said, hoping to explain his sudden excitement. “I  _love_  to cook.” Really, he just loved food. He glanced at Quinn, but she seemed less excited: he wondered if she had ever cooked for herself in her life.

Natasha looked between them for a long moment, then pulled her long red hair into a ponytail. “We’ll start simple.”

They flipped through the two big recipe books on the counter, with Natasha grabbing cooking sheets and pans behind them. They eventually decided on parmesan chicken and salad, with Kurt steering the ship on double-chocolate brownies. Personally, Kurt thought the meal was a little too pedestrian for their first night in Avengers Tower, but he realized that comfort food might be better than anything too fancy.

Still, he felt better when Natasha suggested that he add a little mint to the brownies.

When they were about halfway done, Rachel and Mercedes showed up, followed by Happy, whose eyes had that glazed over appearance that let Kurt know Rachel probably had not stopped talking since they left the meeting room downstairs.

“What are you doing here?” Quinn asked, pausing her coating of the chicken.

“We’re going to make vegetarian versions of whatever you’re making,” Rachel said matter-of-factly. “Happy said we all take turns making meals, but that if we have special accomodations, we have to make them ourselves. Which,  _to me_ , seems a bit ungracious of our hosts, but--”

“And since I’m paired with Rachel, I get to help,” Mercedes interrupted, deadpanned. But then she smiled at Kurt and Kurt couldn’t help but grin back. This was insane, like Quinn had said, but he was glad to be here with his best friends.

“There’s vegetarian chicken in the freezer.” Natasha said, then went back to chopping carrots for the salad at blinding speed. “And a can of breadcrumbs in the pantry,” she added.

The kitchen was plenty big enough for them to work separately, but when Rachel began to sing under her breath, it wasn’t long before Kurt and Mercedes were joining in and filling the kitchen with the sound. None of them noticed Natasha looking at them like  _they_  were the crazy ones.

Rachel was not a cook. Mercedes ended up doing the actual baking of the chicken, on a tray seperate from the rest of the chicken. It was all ready at roughly the same time, and Natasha was wiping her hands off on a towel and taking a cellphone identical to the one Kurt had found out of her back pocket.

She typed a few keys and slid it away, and then sure enough, Kurt’s phone beeped in his pocket.

REPORT TO DINING ROOM FOR DINNER, it said. Kurt felt himself smiling; which only grew when he heard doors opening and closing down the hall. He carried the serving dishes and set the glasses on the already-made table and was standing with Natasha and Quinn when the Glee Club stampeded in--they were talking, loudly, all of them, and Kurt was suddenly reminded that in spite of everything, these kids were his family.

The Avengers followed in shortly after; Tony talking excitedly to Dr. Banner, Clint and Phil chatting about what Kurt thought was old cars. Clint cought Natasha’s eye and quickly cleared his throat.

“Thank you, Natasha, Kurt, Quinn,” he said pointedly, over the chatter of the table. The Glee kids stilled and looked at them, unsure of what to do.

Blaine was the first to get it. “Thank you for making dinner, Kurt, and Quinn and….Miss Widow.” The other Glee kids caught on and chorused what might have been thanks. Kurt beamed to keep from laughing, and then they all sat down and passed the food. They were all talking and laughing, and Kurt began to think he would like it here after all.


	4. Chapter 4

“So I see you have a knack for getting in trouble, don’t you,” Tony Stark said as the elevator doors closed. He pulled his phone out of his back pocket and thumbed through it. “I have your records here. All of them.”

Puck just barely glimpsed Kurt and Quinn leaving the meeting room, but he didn’t see who they were with--just that they were together. Good; it would’ve driven Puck crazy if Quinn were with any of the other guys.

Yes, he trusted them all. They were his bros.

No, he and Quinn weren’t _technically_ together.

“Yeah, I guess I do,” Puck answered absently. “So what?”

Tony shrugged. “Just wondering why that is,”

“You and my counselor both,” Puck gruffed.

“Yeah. Right. Well, kid, this is the big leagues now. There’s a time and a place for trouble, or so I’m told, and when you’re on mission is _not_ the time or the place. That’s all my advice for you on that front.”

Puck stared at him. “That’s all your wisdom for me?”

“I’m no expert on staying out of trouble either, Noah.”

“Puck.”

“Right, yeah. Anyway, here’s my lab. Your room’s up on 44, but I think you know how to put yourself to bed, right?” Tony looked at him over the rim of his sunglasses before taking them off and tossing them haphazardly onto a desk.

“This is where the magic happens,” Tony continued. “You any good at tech?”

Puck shrugged. “I passed woodshop okay.” He went to reach for a what looked like a joystick on the desk, but Tony stopped him.

“Don’t play with anything ‘till you know what it does. Or at least what you _think_ it does. Because this--hey, where--oh. Yeah. Beautiful, right?”

Puck had just noticed the row of cars along the far wall of the garage, in every color from blue to red to black to silver to green to white. They were Lambos, Maserati, everything he and Finn salivated over in _Mechanic Monthly_. They were beautiful.

“So, since I’m like your student or whatever, does that mean I get to drive--”

“No.”

“But--”

“ _No_. I don’t even think you have your license.” Tony ignored his protestations. “You’re not here to play with my toys. I’m the only one who gets to play with my toys. Unless you happen to have, oh, about ten million dollars on hand,”

Puck blanched, then hardened. “That’s garbage. What the hell am I supposed to do here, then? Sit and watch you work?”

Tony shrugged. “Basically. Iron Man--that’s me--works alone, almost always. _Almost_. And Pepper seems to think that you’re…” Tony sighed and squinted. “The new me. I tried to tell her that was crazy, since there’s only one me, but...well, here you are. So you’re going to watch me work until we figure out what work you can do yourself.”

“Garbage,” Puck repeated. “I can do work. They told us that we were special. How--what sort of ‘special’ do they think I am, anyway?”

Tony shrugged. “They don’t know. Do you?”

Puck faltered, shook his head. “No.”

“Then you get to watch.” Tony paused, then sighed. “Look, Puck. I don’t--I’m not--I want to help you, but I don’t know if I know...how to do that. Not yet. So for now, I’ll show you how everything works, and then maybe we can take one of the cars for a spin or something, okay?”

Puck considered him for a full thirty seconds, then shrugged. “Yeah, sure. Whatever.”

Tony seemed pleased, because he clapped his hands together and grinned. “Excellent. Jarvis, bring up the displays.”

 _Of course, sir._ Puck jumped and looked up, above them.

“What was--”

“That’s Jarvis. He takes care of the house.”

 _At your service, Mr. Puckerman_.

“Weird.” Puck said, shaking his head. When he refocused, there were bright blue holographs all around them, all with readings and words and numbers that Puck didn’t even kind of understand. “Woah. _Weird_.”

“This is everything relating to the building. Cameras, sensors, security. Oh, right, while you’re here, I should give you a code. Put your hand there.” Tony said, waving a hand. As he did, a screen on the wall nearest him blinked to life. Puck raised his eyebrows and eyed it suspiciously, but shrugged when Tony gestured for him to get on with it.

He pressed his hand to the cool metal, then took it back as soon as it flashed _scan completed_.

“First lesson,” Tony said, “Don’t ever touch anything if you don’t know what it is or what it does. You have no idea what that could have been.”

“You just said--”

Tony looked at him, serious for the first time since they left the conference room. “People are liars, Puck. People can and will let you down.”

“Trust me, I know,” Puck retorted, uncomfortable with the sudden sobriety of the conversation. “But I thought I was supposed to trust my mentor.”

Tony nodded after a minute. “You are. That’s why that thing did exactly what I said it did; took a scan of your palm so I can give you access to the building. Here’s your code.” He handed Puck a slip of paper with five numbers on it. “Randomly generated. Remember them, I don’t have time to make all you kids new codes every other minute.”

“Sure,” Puck said,  stuffing it in the pocket of his jacket. “So what now?”

“Let me introduce you to the gang.” Puck let Tony lead him through the lab, introducing him in turn to each of the machines. It seemed a little mental to Puck, since they were just machines after all. But still, it was kind of nice to see _the_ Tony Stark in his natural element, talking to machines like they were friends.

It was all going fine until they got to the last machine in the lab, a tall, clunky thing that reminded Puck of the steam engines that used to run trains. Or did they used to run planes? Puck had kind of fallen asleep in that history lesson. In every history lesson.

“Betty, this is Puck. Scan him, please.”

_Scanning._

“Scan me, what?”

 _Scan incomplete_.

Tony was already halfway back to his work table when the voice over the speakers spoke. “Sorry, what was that, Betty? Scan him.”

Scanning. Scan incomplete.

“Incomplete, what does that mean?”

“I don’t know,” Tony answered, almost absently. “Jarvis, run scan on Betty.”

_Nothing out of the ordinary, sir. Shall I scan Mr. Puckerman?_

“Yes. Bring it up on the screens. Puck, stay there. Don’t move.” It wasn’t strictly necessary to keep him still, but Tony wasn’t going to take any chances.

Puck, for his part, was beginning to feel the sweat on the back of his neck. Was something wrong with him?

_Scan unable to be completed, sir. There is interference._

“Interference? From what?”

_Unknown, sir._

“Take off your coat. Everything out of your pockets.” Tony said, sharpness of his voice startling Puck to obedience.

“Run another scan, Jarvis.”

_Scan incomplete, sir. Basic readings came back elevated within normal ranges._

“What’s elevated?” Puck asked, not sure if he was allowed to move yet.

“I’ll let you know,” Tony said absently, blowing up the readings on the holograph in front of him. He picked out two or three tables, examined them, then tossed them away.

_Sir, it would appear that I am being tampered with._

“What?” Tony and Puck said at the same time. Tony glared at Puck, who fell silent. “By who?”

 _Mr. Puckerman_. Jarvis’ voice was going staticky, and it was silenced before it even finished Puck’s name.

“I swear, I’m not doing anything!” The screens flickered and the lights went low for a minute; neither Tony or Puck moved until everything returned to normal.

_Scan completed, sir. It would appear that the boy possesses some power over electric activity. It tried to shut me down, I’m sure as a defense mechanism._

“Interesting,” Tony said slowly, eyeing Puck with newfound curiosity.

“What does that mean?” Puck groused, picking his coat up off the ground and shrugging into it. He shoved the rest of his things in his pockets and stared at Tony expectantly. He hoped the machines couldn’t pick up on his heart beating erratically in his chest--this felt like a Moment, but he didn’t understand it.

“It means…” Tony waved the screens away with his hand. “That we’re going for a drive, kid. Take your pick of vehicle, but I’m driving.”

 

They didn’t talk about anything that had happened in the lab, for which Puck was grateful. They talked about Tony’s experiments and his projects; it seemed like Tony loved to talk about himself. Puck didn’t understand what was happening to him, and he didn’t think Tony did either, which wasn’t exactly comforting. He also came to understand that he shouldn’t tell any of the Glee kids--at least not yet.

They arrived a little before six. When they got back, Tony took him up to his room, which was all the way down the hall, past the other kids’ rooms and down another small hallway Puck hadn’t even noticed before. Since he was the only one paired with Iron Man, he didn’t have to share his room--although he noticed there was a second bedroom. Tony assured him it was the same layout in all the rooms, then gave him a small cellphone and earpiece, the former of which began to beep.

“Dinnertime,” Tony said, before Puck had even looked at the phone. “C’mon, you can set that up on the way. Let’s go see if your friends can cook.”

It turned out, they could. They ran into the others on the way, and Tony instantly broke away from him to join Dr. Banner, and Puck only overheard his name and Jarvis before he decided to stop listening. Those two guys were geniuses, and Puck guessed if he had to have anyone trying to figure him out, he could do worse than the two of them.

Dinner was a loud affair, made louder by Thor’s loud and unexpected appearance. He brought with him barrels of alcohol that the kids were strictly forbidden from even touching; the adult Avengers seemed to enjoy it plenty, though.

Thor clapped him on the shoulder and greeted all the Glee kids by name; Puck guessed he was okay looking, kind of like an overgrown, better-looking Sam, but all the girls--even Santana--were looking at him like their panties were already on the ground.

Benefits of being a god, Puck thought, then pushed the last of his brownie away. Probably wasn’t even kosher.

Since Kurt, Quinn and Natasha had cooked, that meant someone else had to clean. Somehow, Mike, Brittany and Dr. Banner ended up with that job, which Dr. Banner seemed fine with; he looked as cowed by Thor as Puck was trying not to feel.

The rest of the kids scuttled from the dining room to the living room, where Puck noticed the TV for the first time. It had the Stark Industries logo on the bottom right hand corner, which meant that not only was this one of Tony’s own inventions, but that it probably could do all sorts of awesome shit.

“Wonder what games they have,” Finn said, appearing next to him. The girls had taken up one side of the long couch, with Sam and Artie and Blaine taking up the other half. “How was your day with Tony Stark?”

Puck suddenly, very badly, wanted to tell Finn everything, because Finn always knew exactly what to say to make the world seem not so crazy out of whack. But he thought about the way Tony had looked at him, about how he’d felt, and he decided against it.

“Hey, here’s Mario Kart,” he said instead, pulling the game from one of the drawers. “Let’s go teach these kids a thing or two, yeah buddy?”

Finn smiled that dopey smile of his and nodded. “Yeah, buddy,”

(Santana was surprisingly good at Mario Kart, but Mercedes was the sort of person that Blue Shell’d the one in the lead. They learned that about ten seconds before they learned that Santana was incredibly competitive about Mario Kart, and that being in New York did not make Santana any less likely to try and go all ‘Lima Heights Adjacent’.)

When they had exhausted all levels of Mario Kart and Artie wanted to play Golden Eye on the N64 they’d found, Puck decided he needed some air. The Avengers had long since disappeared to wherever they went; they'd watched Hawkeye take the remaining vat of liquor with him.

Puck had seen Thor take Rachel and Mercedes out onto the balcony earlier and it seemed like a good time to investigate it. He left the couch and opened the sliding glass door and went outside, shutting it behind him.

New York smelled different than Lima. It felt busier. His heart was beating to a rhythm he didn’t recognize, but knew it was the beat of the city. He’d always thought California was somewhere that he might end up--that New York was reserved for the Kurts and the Rachels of the world, not the Pucks.

Maybe he was wrong. As he leaned on the balcony railing, Puck couldn’t help but notice that New York, however far below him, was _dirty_. It was loud, it smelled, it was aggressive. All qualities he shared.

He allowed himself a private chuckle at that. He’d told the guy on the plane who wanted his signature that they were already special, had meant that he didn’t need S.H.I.E.L.D or anyone else to tell him what he already knew, and yet now that he had confirmation that he was special, special in the way they meant, he didn’t know how he felt about it.

“Hey,” a soft voice said. Puck started in surprise and looked over at Quinn, who had at some point joined him on the balcony. “What’re you thinking about?” When he didn’t immediately answer, she set her hand gently on his arm. “C’mon. You can tell me, you know that.”

Puck sighed and turned to face her. “I don’t know if I want to be here.”

“We haven’t even been here a whole day yet,” Quinn said, pulling her cardigan more around her, protection against the cool New York air. He noticed and offered her his jacket, which she accepted after a moment of hesitation. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” Puck said, looking back out over the city. “I mean, I can’t exactly leave, even if I wanted to. But… what if this is something way bigger than what we think it is?”

Quinn shrugged, tiny shoulders dwarfed by his leather jacket. “Is that a bad thing?”

Puck sighed. “No. Yes. Maybe. This could change our whole lives. I _like_ my life.”

“I like mine, too, Puck, but what--I mean, come on. We’re high schoolers from Ohio. They’re probably wrong about us, anyway, and they’ll send us home by next week with an apology and some S.H.I.E.L.D swag.”

“No,” Puck said carefully, looking at her fully for the first time. “They won’t. They’re right about us, Quinn.”

Quinn stared at him, then took a step closer to him and said, in a much quieter but more urgent voice, “What do you mean, Puck? Did Tony Stark tell you something? Did you find something out?”

Puck hesitated, but the green of her eyes and the temptation of her warm body was too much. “Yeah. I--he--we figured it out. Figured me out. Sort of. Not totally. But, um...remember that ATM I stole, and how they couldn’t figure out how I got around the wired-in protections?”

“Yeah,” Quinn said, eyebrows slightly knitted together--but not enough to cause wrinkles, he knew.

“Turns out, I have some…” Puck struggled for the words. “Abilities. With electric stuff. Got in a fight with Tony’s machine on the speakers. Jaeger, Jeeves, whatever.”

“Jarvis,” Quinn supplied, nothing more than a breath.

“Yeah. I didn’t mean to, though, and I didn’t control it. But...that’s why I think they’re on to something with us, Quinn. If _I_ have something, of course the rest of us do, too. This is really happening, Quinn, and I don’t know what to do about it.”

“Yeah,” Quinn answered faintly. “I know the feeling.” She looked at him for another long minute, then sighed and brought a smile to her face. “Let’s just enjoy the view for a while, okay?”

“Yeah, sure. Okay.” They both turned out to the city, and after a moment of hesitation, Puck wrapped his left arm around her shoulders and gently pulled her a little closer to him. She didn’t resist; in fact, she let her head rest against his chest, and that somehow made Puck feel a whole lot better about the whole thing.

They stayed out there, not saying anything, until there was a quiet knock on the door behind them and Blaine cleared his throat.

“Hey, guys. Sorry to interrupt, but, uh, Black Widow said that Quinn needs to hit the hay. We should probably all think about bed, honestly,” Blaine added, casting a doubtful, squinty eye down at his watch.

“Right, yeah,” Puck said, releasing Quinn quickly. She nodded and smiled placatingly at Blaine, who got the memo and disappeared back inside. Puck watched him find Kurt and take his hand, but then Quinn was handing him his jacket back.

“We’ll figure it all out,” she promised, smiling up at him in that way that he knew, _knew_ , was reserved for him.

“We always do,” Puck agreed, gesturing for her to lead the way back inside. She dipped her head and stepped silently back to the group, Puck following close behind, jacket on his arm still warm from her body.

They would figure it all out. They didn’t really have any other choice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one took a bit longer to get out, y'all! I'm going to try to update every week, but life sometimes gets messy. Hope you enjoyed!


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